


Political Matches

by starlightwalking



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Love Confessions, M/M, Self-indulgent fluff, Valinor, background Amarië/Elenwë
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:26:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24829798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlightwalking/pseuds/starlightwalking
Summary: Turukáno realizes a few things about his dearest friend - and about himself.
Relationships: Finrod Felagund | Findaráto/Turgon of Gondolin
Kudos: 20
Collections: Dialogue Prompts





	Political Matches

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starlightwalking](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlightwalking/gifts).



> I love these two so much that I literally sent myself an ask so I had an excuse to write about them... also, apparently you can gift a work to yourself here?? Exciting!
> 
> Anywho! This prompt is by me for me: Turgoldo + "You're in love with her."

“You’re in love with her,” Turukáno realizes, astonished.

Findaráto chokes on his drink. “I— _what_?” he exclaims, turning to stare at his friend, clear blue eyes wider than Turukáno’s ever seen them.

“Amarië,” Turukáno says, waving a hand at the gorgeous nís who’s currently entertaining their aunt Lalwendë. “I should have guessed it sooner. You’re always staring at her, you’re so eager to help her whenever she expresses any slight desire, et cetera.” He’s not sure why he’s so gloomy at the prospect.

“Turukáno,” Findaráto says slowly, setting his glass aside with a trembling hand, “you think I am in love…with Amarië?”

“Well, aren’t you?” Turukáno grouches. Is he…jealous? Is that what this is? That doesn’t make sense, Turukáno’s involved with Amarië’s friend Elenwë, a pretty nís Aunt Findis’ wife Elemmírë introduced him to. Amarië is lovely, of course, and not so different from Elenwë, really, so why…?

“Absolutely not,” Findaráto states, his gaze lingering on Turukáno’s face a little longer than strictly necessary. Turukáno wonders if it’s the wine that’s making him blush, or the sudden intensity of Findaráto’s shockingly blue stare.

“Don’t lie to me,” Turukáno snaps. “What’s all that about, then?”

“I am simply being a gentleman.” Findaráto sniffs. “Which is more than I can say for you, even when your own beloved is involved.”

“Wh—!” Turukáno begins to protest, but there’s something bitter about his friend’s smirk that cuts him even more than the idea that Findaráto is in love with someone else.

“She’s not my _beloved_ ,” he grumbles instead, just to see Findaráto jump a bit. Somewhere in the back of his mind he’s already figured it out, what’s going on with him, but he’s deliberately ignoring that, because _no_ , he _can’t_ be, especially not after giving Finno such grief about Maitimo, this isn’t _possible_ —

“Oh?” Findaráto asks, leaning in _far_ too close for Turukáno’s comfort.

“She’s—we’re friends,” Turukáno mumbles, suddenly unable to look Findaráto in those damned blue eyes of his. “I think—look, it’s all politics, Elenwë’s a good match for me, is all, everyone knows it. I’m just—I’m worried about _you_ , Ingo, because, well, don’t tell her I told you and certainly don’t tell Amarië, but Elenwë’s a little bit in love with _her_ , and she thinks her chances are good even if she’ll have to dance around the politics of it all, and—”

Findaráto places a finger on Turukáno’s lips, and Turukáno forgets how to breathe for a moment.

“Turno,” he says gently, “I will say it again: I am not in love with Amarië. No more than you’re in love with Elenwë, apparently.”

Turukáno believes him, this time, and he nods, his heart pounding.

“I’m—” Findaráto blushes, then grabs his hand. “We can’t do this here. Politics, you know.”

“Mhm,” Turukáno squeaks out, letting Findaráto drag him away from the party and into a secluded corner of their grandfather’s gardens.

 _Oh, Valar,_ he thinks giddily as they race like children through the halls of the palace, _I’m in love with Ingo, aren’t I? And he—could he be—_

And then Findaráto is pressing him up against a vine-wrapped column and kissing him, and Turukáno moans into his embrace, kissing him back, and his own unspoken question is answered for him.

**Author's Note:**

> Rebloggable on tumblr [here](https://arofili.tumblr.com/post/620862959167651840/9-turgoldo-yes-i-am-sending-myself-an-ask-with).
> 
> Thanks for reading, and please comment if you enjoyed!  
> You can find me on tumblr [@arofili](http://arofili.tumblr.com/).


End file.
